


Paint the Town Green

by K_T_Tara



Series: The Script [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Meetings, Friendship, Gen, John is surprised, The Script, molly is a spy, mycroft's offer, paint the town green
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 19:31:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3261722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_T_Tara/pseuds/K_T_Tara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She is everything Sherlock is not, Mycroft decides. But he's not yet sure if that's a good thing or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paint the Town Green

**Author's Note:**

> I thought the song fitted since Molly's only just moved to London and still a little overwhelmed and then here comes Mycroft with an odd offer.

Not many people know it -in fact, hardly anyone knew it, for John only stumbled in it by chance- but Molly and Sherlock made a very good team. He was used to people saying that Sherlock didn't have friends and he was the first, but upon meeting Molly (officially and without a psychopath boyfriend), John deemed them all wrong. Molly was Sherlock's friend long before he came along.

Sure, she had a hopeless crush on the man, which John found out after a rather failed attempt to flirt with her. And Sherlock took advantage of this crush, sweet talking his way into all sorts of trouble. But... they worked so well together. In the lab, Molly would help Sherlock with his work, and likewise he would hand her things she needed. (John bout had a heart attack one day when she was having trouble reaching something from the top shelf, then Sherlock stood up from his stool, walked across the room, and got it for her. Without having to be asked!)

And those body parts he kept saying he 'stole' or 'borrowed' from Bart's morgue: John saw how neatly they were packaged (before Sherlock got his bored fingers on them) and labeled... in Molly's handwriting.

But the true crux, the point John was trying to make, was when he discovered the duo's penchant for deceit and deviousness.

"He's asking if you've been talking about Jim lately," were Molly's first words when they entered the lab one night. Sherlock scoffed while John was well and truly confused," Who? Jim? Jim Moriarty?"

But it turns out she was actually addressing Sherlock. " _Have_ you been trying to find him?" she asked. "He hasn't even shown the slightest sign in weeks," he promptly answered her, which honestly surprised John more than it probably should have," What did you tell him?" She just shrugged," Told him you've been busy with cases and didn't have time for much else."

If John hadn't been staring, he might've missed the quirk of a smile on Sherlock's face," Good answer." But he didn't. He saw.

"Okay, _what_ is going on?!" he finally exploded, unable to contain his curiosity anymore," _Who_ are you talking about? And what does Jim Moriarty have to do with anything?"

At least Molly had the decency to blush and look away, but Sherlock just gave him that haughty look of his and said," Nothing, John. We're talking about Mycroft." Now that made even _less_ sense. John was unaware that Molly even _knew_ who Mycroft was. "Okay, I'll ask. _Why_?"

The grin on Sherlock's face was almost disconcerting. Almost. "Because Mycroft is an idiot who thinks Molly can't lie," he said while accepting the white envelope Molly handed him.

"What the-?" John gaped.

Sherlock held it up victoriously," Case in point, he still has no idea he's been paying the both of us for her supposed 'spying'."

And then _that_ made John's head spin. Molly was...innocent little Molly was... He pointed at her in disbelief," You're spying on Sherlock for Mycroft?!" He couldn't believe it: Molly, a spy!

"Actually, she's spying on Mycroft for _me_ ," Sherlock corrected, pocketing the envelope and going right to the microscope that John before hadn't noticed set up and ready for him," Knowing what someone's asking is almost as good as them telling you what they already know." John stared blankly at him until Sherlock sighed and explained," Mycroft. Asking Molly-" he gestured to the quiet and _seemingly_ innocent woman," if I've been investigating Moriarty. That tells me two things: his surveillance on me has lessened to the point that he himself does not know and so needs to ask Molly, and that he also doesn't have any information on Moriarty or else he wouldn't need to see if I do."

"And how long has _this_ ," John gestured between the two of them," been going on?" Something he never thought he'd be asking of the two, and if he did it would've been under much different circumstances. (All that time ago, when John first met Sherlock and Molly and listened to them discuss her lipstick, he honest to God thought them dating until Sherlock put that idea to rest.) Though to be fair, who would expect the two of them involved in mild espionage?

But when Sherlock and Molly exchanged glances and he answered," Ever since I brought her to London," John thought he must've fallen into a parallel universe. " _What_?!" 

* * *

 

Molly's Flat

Four Something Years Ago

" _Please_ don't slam that door on my face," Mycroft requested with just a hint of exasperation, as politely as one could be when it looked like Miss Molly Hooper was about to do just that. Her hand gripped the edge of the door and he could see the tension in her arm, more than ready to slam the door on him with full force. And how rude would _that_ be?

She peered up at him with wary irate eyes," You could be a serial killer for all I know." At that accusation, Mycroft at least had the decency to look offended. (Even though he'd make an _excellent_ serial killer...as long as he didn't have to do any leg work.)

"If I were to kill you, would I knock on your door and say please?" The answer was yes because only competent killers knew how to adhere to social niceties.

But she amused him by saying," No, I suppose your style is more along the lines of asking me to get into strange cars with a strange woman attached to her phone." A most wonderful description of Anthea; he'd have to tell her. Still, Mycroft's interest in Miss Hooper inched up; how did she know he had been behind that? Maybe she recognized his voice from the phone call? (Useful talent, recognizing voices without ever seen their faces) "I _had_ been trying to meet you," he explained," So we could...talk."

"Ever heard of a phone call?"

Bah, phones are easily hacked and conversations listened to. That's what he should've said, but instead," I did call," popped out of Mycroft's mouth.

"Creepy pay phones don't count."

"When one is trying to avoid the notice of Sherlock Holmes, precautions have to be taken."

"Right, because you're a serial killer and you don't want to draw the notice of a consultant detective."

Mycroft resisted pinching the bridge of his nose -just _barely_ \- and suddenly wondered _why_ in the world Sherlock described this woman as 'mousy'. She was stubborn, cautious, and had a wit that was probably what caught Sherlock's eye in the first place. God save the Queen if she and Anthea ever became friends. As it was, Molly Hooper was not going to listen to him as long as she thought him some deranged madman. "My name is Mycroft Holmes," he finally explained," Sherlock is my younger brother."

* * *

 

Five minutes later, Mycroft found himself invited into Molly's tiny flat and offered a biscuit (which of course he accepted). As she fluttered around, getting some tea -a bit erringly, as she normally drinks coffee- he did what he does best. He observed.

She was still in the process of moving, quite evident by the bare furnishings and boxes. A number of said boxes were marked ' **books** ' so she was an avid reader. Sentimental to an extreme, judging by the plethora of pictures and trinkets everywhere.

' _Such an odd choice, Sherlock_ ,' he thought, remembering his brother's requests (demands) to have this woman brought to St. Bart's. Scared off Dr. Davison just to do so, Mycroft figured out soon enough. But this woman was everything Sherlock was not: sentimental, polite, and _ordinary_.

Still, he has an opportunity and he wasn't likely to waste it. "Are you aware of how you came to be at St. Bart's?" he asked, suddenly curious if she had been able to figure it put herself.

Sipping her tea lightly -a sweet green tea and very un-British- Molly fiddled with the cup before answering," A doctor quit and Sherlock put in my name as a recommendation." My, Mycroft almost laughed, she really had no idea!

"On the contrary,"he corrected her," You were brought to St. Bart's because you are the only one capable of working with my brother." Miss Hooper's eyebrows shot up, but he didn't give her the chance to express her (obvious) doubts. "You've met Sherlock, you know how he is with everyone. And yet there's you; my sources tell me you worked quite well with him in your hometown in solving a case. And at St. Bart's, you are the _only_ one he works with."

She opened her mouth, no doubt to ask who he knew that Sherlock spent hours at the hospital. That he spent his days conducting 'experiments' and enlisting her assistance, that he watched her autopsies with apt interest and learned all he could about it while he listened to her record her findings, that he often terrorized the other interns she works with. (Mycroft knew these things for reasons obvious, but also because Sherlock hates his 'house arrest' at Mycroft's residence -he wasn't ready for a place of his own- and found all excuses to be out and about)

Mycroft spoke," It must be difficult, moving from a small town to a big city like London." This last statement was made innocently, a faux air of concern in his tone. Molly blinked rapidly, whiplashed by the sudden change in topic. If she ha any lingering doubts about Mycroft being Sherlock's brother, they dissipated in an instant. Sherlock does the same thing.

"Umm well, it was all kind of...unexpected. And sudden."

"Didn't really get a chance to settle yet?"

"Well...it's all fine. I was able to get this flat on such short notice," she smiled encouragingly as if proud of this dismal hole in the wall. "Yes..."Mycroft looked distastefully at the cramped space and clutter and peeling wallpaper.

"Perhaps..." He spoke nonchalantly," I could help ease your way...a small fee, if you'd do a small favor for me."

"...what?" she squeaked, surprised and and a little worried. (Ah, there's the mousy quality Sherlock was explaining) Mycroft took a sip of his tea then continued," Just... Keep me updated on how he's doing. Nothing you'd be uncomfortable with."

"What?!" her squeak became louder," You want me to spy on Sherlock for you?! For money?!" How she managed to sound both mousy and affronted at the same time, he will never know.

"You can imagine the trouble he gets into," he added," I worry about him. Constantly." A brotherly concern, though Molly suspects he was more likely concerned with the trouble Sherlock would _cause_.

But still... "Why ask _me_?" she asked. Molly knew she meant little to Sherlock; in fact he accidentally called her 'Maggie' the other day...

"I've already told you," Mycroft sighed , as if annoyed he had to explain it to her again," Sherlock is constantly at St. Bart's. It'd be easier for you to keep an eye on him there. Just...inform me how he's doing every now and then."

Molly's eyes narrowed," That still doesn't explain why you offered me money."

He shrugged," I'm helpful. Noticed you were in need and thought I'd ask."

' _Liar_ ,' Molly thought. 

* * *

 

St. Bart's, London

Present time

"No!" John interjected in the middle of Molly's story," You actually...Mycroft came to your flat to ask you to spy on Sherlock for him?"

Sherlock shot his best friend a look," Of course, weren't you listening, John? Unlike you, Molly didn't get in the car just because a man in a phone told her to." There was an insult in there somewhere but John was too preoccupied to notice.

"I'm still caught up by the fact that _you_ brought Molly to London," he said, bewildered, and Molly blushed bright red. While ignoring Sherlock in the background going," You make it sound like I packed her in a suitcase and carried her to London," John asked her," And you just _agreed_? With Mycroft's plan?" She shook her head.

Sherlock actually answered for her," She came to me and I told her to accept. We've been splitting it 50-50 ever since."

"Blimey," John rubbed the bridge of his nose ," You two..." ' _are something entirely unexpected_ ,' he finished mentally. As he watched Sherlock as Molly get back to work, John saw them work in a whole new light. Sherlock handed Molly a Petri dish for her samples and as soon as she grabbed them, she then placed the file he was looking for in his open hand. And all of this was done without even speaking to each other, it was as if they knew each other's needs without the need for words. It was a quiet partnership and John wondered how he'd missed it all this time.

' _Wait til Mrs. Hudson hears about this,_ ' he snickered.


End file.
